Chapter 41

Chapter 41: Love Triangle

Song Wei Chen struggled a few times, but Gu Cang Yue held her like iron bands.

“If you have something to say, say it properly,” she snapped, breath tight. “Let go of me first.”

That simple refusal—him not releasing her—felt like the final straw, soaked in oil and lit at the end. From Ye Wu Jiu to Song Wei Chen, from reason to emotion, Gu Cang Yue had been testing Mo Ting Feng’s limits for far too long.

Mo Ting Feng’s sword aura surged, his manifestation flaring open. Anger burned in his eyes as he strode toward Gu Cang Yue. Right now, he only wanted to fight.

Zhuang Yu Heng lunged and grabbed him. “Don’t be impulsive!”

He lowered his voice, urgent. “I know you’re furious, but your backlash already injured your dharma body. You need to regulate your breathing. If you fight now, you could damage your primordial spirit.”

Mo Ting Feng didn’t seem to hear a word. His sword aura only grew sharper, thicker, like a storm about to break.

“Oh?” Gu Cang Yue’s voice carried lazy amusement. He didn’t loosen his hold on Song Wei Chen at all. Behind him, a luan-bird manifestation unfolded in full brilliance. “Dust Warden Official—are you asking for a spar?”

Zhuang Yu Heng went pale. He could feel the situation slipping out of his hands.

“You two!” Song Wei Chen finally blurted, half scolding, half frantic. “Do you have to fight at the drop of a hat? What if you hurt the flowers and grass?”

Neither man withdrew. Two immense forces faced off, crackling in the air.

Song Wei Chen’s heart pounded. “What if you hurt me?”

That did it.

Both men froze. The manifestations wavered—then receded, each of them pulling back like a blade being sheathed.

Song Wei Chen let out a long, helpless sigh. These two were pure gunpowder.

She shot Mo Ting Feng a look. “Brother Yu Heng, he’s your problem. Hold him for me. Wait here.”

Then she patted the arm still clamped around her waist. “Let go. We need to talk somewhere else.”

“Alright.” Gu Cang Yue’s voice softened instantly. “Perfect. I’ll show you around. After all, this will be your home in the future.”

He said it so naturally, as if it were already decided, and didn’t care who was listening.

Gu Cang Yue glanced toward Zhuang Yu Heng. “Lord Si Kong, please do as you like. I’ll take my leave.”

He didn’t spare Mo Ting Feng a look. He simply took Song Wei Chen’s hand and led her away.

“This is my favorite place,” he said.

He brought her into the back courtyard.

The corridors curved beside flowing water. The paths wound through quiet greenery, the distant hills layered in mist, birdsong drifting through the air. There was no gaudy excess, no showy wealth—only the clean, restrained elegance of a scholar’s home. You could almost see the master’s temperament in the lines of the place.

“You can’t be a bad person,” Song Wei Chen said suddenly, studying the scenery with certainty. “The rumors say you’re vicious and cruel, that you act wicked and ruthless… No. That can’t be right. Someone like that wouldn’t love living somewhere like this.”

It was the first time anyone had looked at this courtyard and spoken about him instead of praising the view. Something in him shifted, as if a hidden string had been plucked.

“Then what kind of person do you think I am?” he asked.

Song Wei Chen had once graduated top of her class in clinical psychology. Reading people was her strength. It was also why, when she worked as an avatar operator, she chose to operate under Shi Meng’s identity.

Now she stared at the courtyard as if it were a puzzle, serious and focused. “I think you’re kind and gentle. And… you’re introverted, lonely, and afraid of being hurt.”

She’d struck the most real and most fragile part of him with frightening accuracy. Instead of comfort, fear rose in him—sharp, instinctive.

“Don’t talk nonsense just because I look at you differently,” he snapped.

“I’m sorry.” She immediately softened, voice careful. “Lord Cang Yue, I spoke without thinking. Please don’t be angry…”

She hadn’t meant to pry open his armor. More than that, she had too many questions that needed answers.

Her apology made him relent. Without a word, he kept walking, still holding her hand.

“From now on,” he said quietly, “call me Cang Yue.”

“Cang Yue…” She tried it, as if tasting the name. Then her eyes lifted. “Why do you care about me so much? Did we know each other before?”

She hesitated, then added, slow and stubborn. “I don’t believe in love at first sight. And I don’t believe a roc would fall in love with a mayfly. We’re not the same kind of being—why are you so good to me?”

“You really want to know?” His voice was low.

She nodded hard, almost solemn.

“Because you shine in my eyes.”

Shine?

Song Wei Chen’s face went blank with disbelief. She couldn’t accept that answer no matter how she turned it over. What was she—some kind of lightbulb?

And what, was he Edison?

No—moths loved lightbulbs too…

Her brain filled with loud, chaotic commentary.

“You’re hiding something from me,” she said, forcing herself back on track. “And it has something to do with me. That’s why you approached me on purpose.”

“Stay,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her accusation. “Take off my mask, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Everything. Including why I saved you that night of the new moon.”

His eyes behind the mask were equal parts temptation and challenge. “Do you dare?”

—

Back in the main hall, Mo Ting Feng paced like a caged beast.

Zhuang Yu Heng had been sitting to the side, drinking tea, but the constant movement made his head spin. He stood and shoved Mo Ting Feng into a seat.

“Ancestor, calm down,” he hissed. “What’s wrong with you today? You’ve been so irrational you pushed your backlash to the point of your cultivation nearly scattering.”

Mo Ting Feng stared at him for a long moment. He hesitated, then finally spoke.

“You were right.” His voice was rougher than usual. “Song Wei Chen is very likely Sang Pu.”

Zhuang Yu Heng blinked. “You suddenly—did the Yellow Springs Bureau send word?”

Mo Ting Feng shook his head. “She keeps having the same dream. Over and over. It’s all… my past with Sang Pu.”

He exhaled, controlled. “In any case, I’ll find out her past karma as soon as possible.”

That made Zhuang Yu Heng fall silent, his expression turning heavy.

“Sang Pu has had no news of reincarnation for a thousand years,” he murmured. “And now she suddenly appears—right in front of you. Then she just happens to show up at the White Robe disappearance scene. And she’s a soul-language speaker on top of it.”

His unease deepened. “This can’t be coincidence anymore.”

“I don’t think it is,” Mo Ting Feng said quietly. “I think it’s a carefully planned conspiracy.”

He stared at nothing, jaw tight. “Whoever is behind it knows my weakness. I only fear their goal isn’t just targeting me. If it’s larger than that… then it’s a catastrophe for the Dream Realm.”

Zhuang Yu Heng’s voice dropped. “Then in your view… is this girl here with bad intentions? Could she be their accomplice?”

Mo Ting Feng didn’t answer.

Too many “coincidences” piled together. Suspicion grew, no matter how much he tried to cut it down.

And yet…

That was Sang Pu.

The kind of person who, if she demanded his life, he’d hand it over without hesitation.

If the other side’s goal was simply to kill him, it would be easy. Song Wei Chen could reveal her identity and it would be done. Why go to such lengths—why lure him in step by step?

Zhuang Yu Heng watched him sink into silence and let out a long sigh.

“It’s over,” he said grimly. “With how you reacted today, if she really is bad and wants to do something to you, you’ll have no ability to fight back.”

Mo Ting Feng’s gaze sharpened. “Set her aside for now. What matters is finding the person who put her in front of me at this exact moment. That person is hiding something enormous and rotten.”

“Who could it be, to know you so well…” Zhuang Yu Heng fell into thought, then suddenly looked up. “Wait. Her past-life imprint—could it have awakened because she met you again?”

Mo Ting Feng gave a bitter, lonely smile.

“Sang Pu isn’t the type to die for love,” he said softly. “If there’s an imprint, it may not be tied to me at all.”

He paused, the words tasting wrong in his mouth. “It may be that Wei Wei and Gu Cang Yue share a past we don’t know.”

Zhuang Yu Heng’s eyes lit with immediate, shameless curiosity. “You’re saying her past-life imprint might’ve awakened because of Gu Cang Yue?”

Mo Ting Feng didn’t answer.

—

In the courtyard, Gu Cang Yue still waited, as if absolutely certain she would reach for his mask.

Song Wei Chen’s mind spun in panicked circles. She wanted to log on and post for help right now.

Question!

How do you get a bird of prey to speed-run his mating season?

Online. Urgent. Please.

“Big boss,” she said, forcing a straight face, “do you have a wife? How many? Are they human, or divine birds, or some other… species?”

Even she could hear how ridiculous she sounded.

“Utter nonsense.” He frowned. “A luan bird is like a phoenix—we only ever take one mate in a lifetime. I have never married.”

“Then you should find someone truly suitable for you!” she said, doubling down at once. “I’m a mortal. I live a few decades at most. One day I’ll be old, then I’ll be gone. If you’re left alone in this world…”

She spread her hands, earnest and desperate. “I couldn’t bear it.”

“I know you stayed in the Dream Realm because of He Duan,” he said, completely unmoved. “People like that—so long as they don’t die of injury or illness—will remain in the same state they were in when they entered.”

His voice softened, calm and terrifyingly sincere. “I won’t let you die. So you don’t need to worry. We’ll be together forever.”

“You like me, so you want to marry me?” Song Wei Chen stared at him. “You don’t even know me.”

“The future is long,” he said simply. “We have plenty of time to understand each other, and to like each other more.”

Song Wei Chen felt her soul leave her body for a moment. This Big Bird was stubborn beyond belief.

“Big boss—humans date before they marry,” she tried again. “If two people—uh, one person and one bird—try to marry and live together without a foundation of feelings, it’s unstable. It’s easy to divorce, you know? After a long time, you’ll start to hate each other. Just imagining it is miserable.”

“What is dating?” he asked.

Song Wei Chen swallowed.

“Well… it’s when two people who have a good feeling about each other spend time together. Eat, play, watch movies—anything. You learn each other’s habits and thoughts. You grow closer.”

She slumped, suddenly honest. “You’ve stumped me. I’ve only ever dated fictional characters. I don’t have real-life experience.”

He took one step closer. “Do you want to date me?”

“I—cough—” She choked on air.

How was she supposed to answer?

If she said she felt nothing, it wasn’t true. His looks and status were basically the Dream Realm’s top tier. It was hard not to feel something.

But if she dated him… what did that even look like? Birds liked trees, right? What if he turned out to be a nest-building enthusiast and forced her to find some giant tree, build a nest, and sit there staring at the scenery all day?

The thought was so absurd she nearly laughed.

Watching her expression flicker and twist, he seemed amused. He stepped closer, then took her hand with solemn seriousness.

“Although I believe we should marry directly,” he said, “if you insist, we can date first.”

Song Wei Chen felt like she’d talked herself into a trap and didn’t even know how. Still—if dating bought her time, it was better than being forced into an instant wedding.

“Then… we’ll start dating,” she said weakly, then tried to regain control. “What do you want to do right now?”

The way he asked made it sound like a task assignment. She couldn’t help laughing, then forced herself to be blunt.

“Cang Yue,” she said, “I promise we can try to understand each other. But right now, I need to go back to work.”

“Work?”

“Bao Er is missing,” she said, her voice turning serious. “It may be connected to the chaos wraith Nian Niang. I have to find her.”

He studied her. “That’s more important to you than dating?”

“It’s part of it,” she said quickly. “If two people truly care about each other, they support what the other thinks is important. They don’t force their own choices on the other person.”

He looked at her for a long time.

Then, finally, he nodded. “I understand. I’ll take you back to the main hall.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit up.

He nodded again. After a brief pause, he reached into his sleeve and took out a paper-folded thousand paper crane.

“When you want to see me,” he said, placing it in her hand, “light it. No matter where you are—ends of the world or a sea of blades and fire—I will come for you.”